


The marvelous and slightly horny adventure of Bo-Katan

by tacoslayer22



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, crack ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacoslayer22/pseuds/tacoslayer22
Summary: Short little crack ship passage
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze/Gabriel Reyes





	The marvelous and slightly horny adventure of Bo-Katan

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away…

  
  


**Star Wars: The Mandalorian: Season III:**

**Episode I: Death Cums**

It is a period of great strife. In a fit of rage induced by Ahsoka Tano’s very lightly implied bisexuality, Cara Dune crashed her X-Wing and fucking died.  
The remaining characters now vie for the newly open role of being Din’s sorta sidekick. However, none of them have enough muscle to bench press an AT-ST imperial walker the way she used to.

Desperate for a new buff character, The Lucasfilm executives search beyond the galaxy for fresh material. Their journey will bring them to an unexpected, though familiar face…

  
  


Bo-Katan Kryze slurped up the last egg in her stew. The deed was done. She had finished off the last of the frog people. It was a quest she had committed to as a distraction from her shame over failing to reclaim the Darksaber. With the thrill of consuming the final beings of a species of anthropomorphic frog fading away, intrusive thoughts flooded her mind. She should have just punched that silver surfer looking ass until he was out cold. It wasn’t like that guy had a tendency to get back up a couple of minutes after being knocked out pretty much every episode. Karabast, she should have also beaten up the graffiti artist with mommy issues who handed the blade to her in the first place. The regrets tore apart her mind, but all she could let out of her mouth was a resigned “Dank Farrik.” 

The sound of the opening blast door reverberated around the cantina, compelling all the patrons into a sudden silence. Heavy leather boots with metallic embellishments clamored across the floor and halted at the bar. 

“I’d like eighteen tons of greasy grimy gopher guts, mutilated monkey meat, and itsy bitsy tiny feet,” authoritatively proclaimed a gravel voice muffled by a mask. Even in idle motion, the copious amounts of chains attached to every part of his dark all-consuming leathers rattled away in the time signature of death and despair. Bo-Katan had met plenty of people who adorned masks, but this guy was just built different. His presence was foreboding and menacing. It demanded all attention, yet was too intimidating for anyone to find the courage to voice any remark at all. Bo-Katan struggled to form a coherent thought, but after a painful ten seconds when she was more cognizant than ever of her armor chafe, she selected snark as the best approach.

“I see the Imperial remnants are trying to find a new Darth Vader. You are almost as terrifying, but all those chains are not helping. You could get stuck like that. They are nothing but a combat liability.” 

The hourglass-like figure turned his head to reveal the widest shoulders in the known galaxy, then growled. “A new Vader? What kind of ridiculous idea is that? I’m just here to consume dead souls to fill the void opened after my boyfriend left me for a moisture farmer.” 

Oh, so he is single now. Faster than a wall-jumping Brazilian DJ, Bo-Katan’s thoughts switched to horny mode. She was simply bedazzled by his majesticness. This guy right here was an outsider she would happily let rule Mandalore. 

She delivered a chortle and a light punch to the shoulder. “At least tell me your name before you start sulking.” 

“My name is Gabriel Reyes. Now is a good time to inform you that I kill everyone who hears my name.” 

“Oh, plenty of tough guys have threatened me. Now spill the tea, bitch. I want to know all about this other guy.” 

Gabriel normally hated discussing personal history with others, but he was in too deep. He had become endeared by her ferocious response. “Well here is a picture of him. His name is Jack of the Corn fields,” he said while unfolding a crumpled piece of paper summoned from thin air. 

Bo-Katan failed to suppress a monstrous laugh as she saw the image of the twink unfold before her eyes. “A little skinny, isn’t he?” She reached over and squeezed his juicy ass. “Nothing at all like you. You are one kriff of a ritty prilly rancor.” She couldn’t see his face, but the subtle perturbations on the mask from the jaw indicated that he was grinning under there. 

“I guess I won’t kill you after all,” he grumbled as he dropped his dual shotguns on the floor. “I suppose it’s common courtesy for me to get your name first.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, her fiery terracotta hair brushing against the cheekbones of his mask. Gabriel planted his left hand on his hip and leaned over slightly. With his right hand, he pulled off his mask, revealing his scarred, chiseled face. The stubble around his lips stood in defiance of gravity, electrically charged from the kiss of a woman who carried an obscene amount of weapons. Gabriel pulled away and boldly spoke. “Well Bo, tonight I’ll teach you how to properly wield a Darksaber.”


End file.
